Ramblings from Neverland

n as much as counseling seems to make things worse, I’ve decided to have my husband go alone for a time. He agrees, which makes it even better.

Am I perfect? Without sin? Is it all his fault? No, no and no.

Last night, I got to thinking (which is never good where this is concerned) and a cascade of emotions, whys and the like came crashing down. Stress in my life? Blows air through cheeks. Just a bit. Distraction only works so long and then melt down occurs. At least for me.

I cried for a while trying to come to some sort of acceptance or alignment with all that’s been going on. When that didn’t happen, cause and effect was examined. We start to relax with each other and then we go to counseling and it gets strained and tense between us. This is not conducive with rebuilding the relationship, in my limited experience opinion.

The recurring theme of the meetings seem to be my husband and his string of issues. He would like for me to be part of his treatment plan. I’d like nothing more than to be left completely out of it. Please consider we’ve been married for closer to thirty years than twenty.

My husband is the youngest of four children. Not one of mine. To get involved means to be in a position of blame. It simply isn’t going to happen anymore. I see where I’ve been responsible for trying to ‘help’ him and it never ends well for me. Never. He must walk this path alone.

I’ve got my own stuff to deal with and to add his onto mine isn’t an option. I’m replete of the energy required. An empty balloon is a good analogy for my emotional energy reserves. This needs to be addressed, for me.

What does the airline attendant say? Help yourself BEFORE helping those around you. Yep, that’s what we need to do. Adding stress, distress and all that other happy nonsense is getting us no where fast.

Getting back to the meltdown. I finally decided to go speak with my husband. It took a few minutes for me to stop crying enough to express myself about the counseling and I finally asked the question which has plagued me since I found out about the virtual affair, “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Anyone who has been betray in this manner is sure to understand my question. My head knows what he did is on him. My heart and ego are slower to follow. The question seemed to bring him up short, as if he’d never entertained the idea that I would have that reaction to his actions.

He told me he beats himself up daily and I said, Good. And then we chuckled a little bit.

I also told him if he hurt me like this ever again, no one would ever find the body. (please note, I catch spiders and release them to the out of doors.) He understands, I think. We’ll see.